Amazing Spider Man: Screaming in Boring Circumstances
by Lucretia Debrev
Summary: When Peter was bitten by the radioactive spider from Oscorp, he never thought about what could happen to the spider when he wasn't watching. Enjoy!


"_No don't kill it!"_

Everyone stared at him as if he was mad.

"I mean...how do we know if it's poisonous or not?"

"Well, it's not going to bite anyone for us to find out."

"No, let me take care of it. Please."

"Why do you care," Tony Stark asked incredulously.

"I've got my reasons," Peter Parker said, gently guiding the creature onto a piece of paper.

Stark scoffed, "Do whatever the hell you want with it, kid, just keep it away from _me_. I _hate_ spiders."

"Yeah, I'm sure they hate you too."

Bruce Banner interjected, "What do you plan to do with it?"

"I plan to find out if it's poisonous."

"Why?"

"Well, this place seems pretty secure. It's not like it just wandered inside from the garden. Maybe it was planted here...maybe it was meant to kill someone," Peter shrugged, "I don't know. I'd just like to be sure, that's all."

_Besides the last time someone killed a spider...I was doubled over in pain. And if they connect the dots figure out who I am...who knows what sort of trouble that could spell out for me. The only reason I'm even here is because need to find out more about Ravencroft and Oscorp. _

Peter Parker stared straight ahead, unable to focus on anything but the spiderbite. How much would the spider have changed him? In a few hours, would he be eating flies instead of the peanut butter and jelly sandwich his Aunt May had packed him? In a few days would he grow an extra set of eyes, arms and legs?

Then another thought occurred to him. In ever comic book he'd ever read, one of the fears of every superhero or alien was about being discovered. Discovered, captured, and caged. Poked and prodded by scientists for the rest of their lives….

_But surely that wouldn't happen to me. It wouldn't, right? It can't. I can't be one of those people…..One of those people?! Do you hear yourself Parker? There aren't any of those people! They only exist in comic books! They aren't real! _

"Hey, you okay," Jenny Squire asked. Jenny had been in the same History class with Peter since freshman year, and this was the first time she'd spoken to him since then.

"What?"

"You're nose is bleeding?"

"Oh...yeah I'm fine I-"

Peter fell out of his desk, paralyzed. He felt as if something inside him had just died. His hands curled, his body convulsed, his breathing picked up speed, along with his heart, and more than anything his heartbroke. Something was gone, missing, something vital. It was as if someone very close to him had died, but he couldn't place who it was. It was as if a piece of himself had been torn away from him.

Peter could taste blood because it had trickled from his nose to his mouth. The metallic taste seemed to make him more aware of his surroundings. Students were looking at him-no, not at, _down_ at him-eyes wide, mouths open in fear. His head throbbed dully-he must have fallen out of his desk. His teacher was bending over him, saying _something_, but all of it was muffled, drowned out by a high pitch scream that dug into his skull like needles. Perhaps it was ringing and not screaming, but didn't seem like something in his ears, it seemed like something in his head. It didn't seem like a migraine either. It had to be a scream. It was so loud and intense, Peter clenched his teeth, and put his hands to his ears to block it out. The scream sounded like it came from someone who was experiencing fear and pain so unimaginable, it was enough to drive one mad.

Peter felt as if he was being kicked in the back and ribs. He wasn't of course, but it felt as if that was what was happening. It felt like the worst beating he'd ever taken. The screaming lessened, but he still couldn't hear what his classmates were saying, what his teacher was yelling, or Jenny Squire's sobbing. His back hurt, as if he'd been crushed under some weight and was struggling to breathe. He couldn't see them very clearly either. Black patches were blocking out people's faces. His teacher was missing an eye, Jenny was missing half of her face, Flash was missing his nose, it was all too eerie to accept so he just stared up at the ceiling as the black patches grew and multiplied. He couldn't hear anything but ringing when the last bit of the ceiling was eaten by the blackness, and everything became dark. And still the incredible anguish, as if he'd lost something he could never reclaim. If he hadn't felt that he'd been robbed of something vital, maybe he would've been focused on the physical aspect of his pain. Maybe he would've seen his life flash before his eyes. But he didn't. He only felt victimized by having something taken from him, and panicked for not knowing what was lost or how to get it back.

"_Peter? Peter? How are you feeling?" _

Staring at him was the school nurse, Aunt May and Uncle Ben.

"Aunt May? Uncle Ben? What are you doing here?"

"No, no, shush, lie back, everything's fine now."

"No, May, everything's _not_ fine. He had a _seizure_ in history class, that is anything _but_ fine."

"I had a _what_?"

"A seizure-"

"Well now, Ben, the nurse doesn't know what it is. Maybe it's not as bad as all that."

"Well what else could it have been? There's no point in dancing around the subject-"

"I'm just trying to keep him calm-"

"Um, Mr. Parker, I'm afraid your wife is right-I don't know _what_ it was. But I need to ask your son some questions-"

"Nephew. I'm-I'm their nephew."

"Right, yes of course, _nephew_. Now Mr. Parker-"

"Yes," Peter and Uncle Ben both replied.

"_Peter_ your aunt and uncle tell me you don't have any history of seizures. That true?"

"Yes, as far as I know."

"Okay. Does anything hurt? Does your head hurt? How's your vision? Seeing any flashes, floaters?"

"I...I don't know…"

_She's probably more worried about a lawsuit or something, than she is about _me_. _

"Alright, that's fine for now."

"Okay then. Can you tell me what happened to you?"

_How do you explain you were bitten by a radioactive spider manufactured in a lab you wasn't supposed to be in? _

"Tell you what _happened_ to me?"

"Yes, if you can."

"_Oh_, you mean in history class."

_You don't. _

"Yes," the nurse answered worriedly, "You _do_ remember what happened, don't you?"

"Vaguely, yeah. I think…"

Peter remembered the look on Flash's face. He'd never seen the guy look so afraid in his entire life. Flash had alway been this invincible Giliath that he had just assumed wasn't afraid of anything but scouts, and losing a basketball game. The fact that Flash looked as if he himself was going to pass out from seeing the state he'd been in told him something was really wrong. That, and the combination of the high pitched screaming inside his head.

_Right, how do you explain that instead of the usual plain old ringing, you heard _screaming _before you blacked out? Ha, you don't. You'll put in a nut house if you say something like that. _

"Peter? Peter," his Uncle Ben was shaking him slightly, a look of deep concern on his face.

Peter looked at them, realizing he'd been lost in thought, staring at a cobweb in the upper right hand corner of the room, "I'm sorry what did you say?"

"I said can you tell us what happened?"

"Oh...yes...I think so. I remember I was in history, and Jenny Squire told me my nose was bleeding...next thing I knew I fell out my desk and I woke up here."

"Okay, sweetheart. Sure you don't remember anything else?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I heard ringing before I hit the floor-"

Aunt May let out a small cry and covered her mouth.

"Hey, Aunt May, hey. I'm okay now. I'm fine now. I must not have gotten enough sleep or water or something _right_? People faint because of lack of sleep or dehydration right? And-and as for nose bleeds, that could've been from stress, right? That's _normal_."

"Yes, that's normal but-"

"But what? That's all it is-was. That's all it was."

"Peter, I don't think it was," the nurse said.

"I'm fine, Peter, really. Nurse, continue. What _do_ you think it was?"

"Again, I don't know. But Peter, there are some things you need to know. You didn't _just_ faint. Mr. Parker, it very well could've been a seizure but let me just tell you what people saw."

Peter waited, and sat up on the sofa.

"Now what people saw was this. When you fell out of your desk, your nose started bleeding rapidly, your hands were shaking, your teacher said you started hyperventilating, and you weren't responding to anything being said to you. This went on for about a minute and a half, then you passed out."

"See, a seizure. Aren't those symptoms of a seizure?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker, but if your nephew has no history of seizures in his family, much less in life, I don't know what caused this. If it was a seizure, I don't see how it could have been brought on by stress. I've been a nurse at this school for nearly ten years, and never in my time have I ever seen a child have a seizure at this school even _with_ a history of them. Have you ever used a drug before, Peter?"

"N-"

"No he most certainly has not! Look, we'll sign whatever we have to to pull him out of school to run tests and find out what's wrong with him, but you are _not_ testing him for drugs when he hasn't used any!"

"May, she didn't mean to suggest he uses drugs-"

"Well then what _was_ she suggesting exactly?"

"May, can we talk about this later?"

Peter hated when they talked about him as if he wasn't there. He could also tell the nurse didn't like it either. The only reason he wanted to leave the nurse's sofa was because he didn't know what a drug test would show. He also didn't want to hear his Aunt and Uncle talk about doctors and tests. _That_ worried him more than anything else.

"Aunt May, Uncle Ben? Can we just go home? Please? _Please_ can we _just_ go home? No tests, no doctors, none of that," he turned to the nurse, "Can I just make up the work I've missed while I've been in here at home? Would that be okay?"

Peter couldn't help but notice the desperation in his voice. Hell, it was probably all over his face. The he thought of an idea. It was a terribly wicked idea, but it was the only thing he could come up with. The best way to shut everyone up. Remind them he was the victim. The kid that passed out with a nose bleed. The elephant in the room everyone had conveniently ignored.

"I think...I think I know what happened. You see...I haven't been sleeping properly because...because I've had a lot on my mind. What with school and all, and it being that time of the year again…"

Aunt May and Uncle Ben sighed sullenly. They had forgotten. Somehow, someway, they'd forgotten. Peter couldn't help but feel a little hurt and offended.

"That time of the year," the nurse asked.

"Yes. Right around this time of year is when my parents disappeared when I was a kid."

Just like doing math, Peter easily added up the reaction of outside party with that of the people who already known the tale of woe and had therefore tried to forget. The product was silence, which was what he needed.

"I'll just get my things then."

Peter had looked at the clock as he shakily made his way to the door. He had an hour of school left, and when he'd collapsed he had ten minutes left of history, the second to last class of the day. The look on his Uncle's face described exactly what Peter had felt in history class. Perhaps it had been a low blow, after all, Peter hadn't just lost his parents, his Uncle Ben had lost his brother, Richard. But Peter couldn't bare to think about what his Uncle's face would look like if he got tests back from a doctor saying his nephew wasn't human.

Peter stuffed all of his textbooks into bag, his mind was too clouded and tired to think about all the homework he really had, versus what he could bring home just in case. Peter closed his locker and saw Flash walking around the nurse's office, but he then stopped when the door slammed.

"What the hell man? Were you high or something?"

Peter chuckled, "Why has everyone asked me if I was high? No, Flash, when I passed out, I was not high. But here's a better question, since when the hell do you care?"

"Me? I don't. You just scared she shit out of everyone when you fell on the floor and started spazzing out. Really insane Parker."

_Sorry all the girls weren't watching you for once. _

Peter slung his bag over his shoulder.

"That why you don't play sports? Because you have seizures or something?"

"No, no I don't have seizures. I don't play sports because I'm not built for it."

"Yeah, well, after what happened on the basketball court last Friday…"

Peter heard the door to the nurse's office open.

"Later Parker," Flash was already walking in the opposite direction down the hall.

While Aunt May was dusting his room, she'd killed the spider that had bitten Peter. She didn't bother to clean up the spider's remains because about a minute later she'd gotten a phone call saying her nephew had collapsed in class and had had some sort of seizure.

When Peter saw the spider in his room he felt anguish when he realized what he'd felt in the classroom, what he'd lost, was the spider.

"Aunt May?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"You killed a spider."

"Yes. Hit it several times, took a while for it to die. I'm sorry I didn't clean it up, but a minute later the school called me so…"

"No...it's fine. I'll clean it up."

Peter didn't know what to do with it. He felt as if he was hiding a body, versus the corpse of an eight legged creature the size of his forefinger. On a curled up newspaper was one of the creatures legs, the other seven legs were curled inward into a ball on the floor. Peter suddenly thought about how fragile all life was and how much it was taken for granted. But then again, man always had an excuse ready. Why had they killed the spider? Why was that their first instinct? Because it was poisonous. Or it could've been. So then, just like the spider, or any other primitive creature, their first instinct was to kill, lest they be killed, or _possibly_ killed themselves. The way Peter saw it, if the spider feared for its life by instinct, if it feared for its life at all, it had a soul to fear for. Which, in a way, made it no different from him. If their was something out there bigger than him, if it had the power to overpower and kill him easily, would that larger creature hesitate to kill him simply because of his intellect? Or would it not question whether Peter had a soul, and just kill him because he could?

Most people killed spiders out of fear of the unknown because they didn't know if the spider was poisonous or not. But couldn't the same be said about people? Weren't the chances of another person bringing about the destruction of a person just like the poison of a spider?

Peter felt that he was a spider in every sense of the creature. Just like a spider's poison, he brought about the destruction of the people he cared about more than his own life. But that was the price he paid for stopping others from hurting the innocent because the could. But Peter also reasoned that he was perhaps just as dangerous as the villains he bested because of the people caught in the crossfire. So what was he to do?

He could kill this spider gently protected in his coat pocket out of bitterness for the innocent life it lead. He could kill it for living so innocently when people with more feeling and heart he cared about had died. Or he could do what his Uncle Ben had taught him to do-with great power came great responsibility. If their was a life he could save, or spare, it was his duty to do just that.

Peter gently took the spider out of his pocket and let it crawl off his hand onto the grass at his feet. He watched the spider start to crawl away, but it then doubled back.

"No, no, little buddy," he whispered, "don't come back to me. Go out there and make a web somewhere. Go on-" But the spider didn't come back onto his hand, it put one small leg onto his finger, and disappeared into the grass.

"Bye...Have a nice life, little buddy."


End file.
